A year ago, I ran through some basic methods of surviving Comic-Con. If you’re heading down to San Diego for Comic-Con this July, Tom Spurgeon’s super-comprehensive list of things to do, places to see, and what to do about money is a definite must-read. The tips are wise, the links are handy, and the sense of humor in his list is wonderfully apropros:
“It’s a gathering of tribes. Strange, nerdy tribes.” (from “Five Things to Tell People On the Airplane”
Knowing that somewhere on the floor is a company that’s lost an intern over the weekend. Just lost them somewhere. (from “Six Small Joys to be Had Late in the Weekend”)
Don’t be shy about asking people who are dressed up in costumes to pose for pictures; the attention is frequently what they’re there for. Plus you may get the honor of addressing a grown man as “Lord Vader.” (from “Four Random Tips On Going To The Show”)
| Chautara Restaurant 334 State St Madison WI 53703 (608) 251-3626 |
Stepping inside Chautara, you’re immediately faced with statuettes of elephant fertility gods and Buddhist figurines, while vibrant drumming music reels in the background. Tiny square tables leave you bumping chairs against those of your fellow diners, whose noisy chatter battle with the sizzles and clangings from the back kitchen.
That immediately sets the mood for this restaurant, which serves a tantalizing mix of Nepalese-Tibetan-Himalayan cuisine, with a couple of dashes of Indian dishes thrown in. Yes, when I say it’s a mix, it is indeed a mix. There is nothing ordinary about what Chautara serves up. Its food is divinely spiced, but not to the point that it overwhelms the subtleties of its gravies or sauces. Chautara doesn’t shy away from flavor or chokes it to death, but instead embraces it like a favorite friend.
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I slid up the ramp of the I-35 toll road, pausing briefly to catch the ticket the cheerful, blue-shirted man held out the window of the toll booth. My stomach gurgled, complaining about the Mickey D’s double cheeseburger I’d ingested half an hour prior. The underthigh of my right leg was cramping, and a dull ache knotted at the base of my neck unless I rolled my shoulders every three minutes or so, making me look like someone out of a Richard Simmons workout. Or a reject from a Ricky Martin music video.
Ah, road-tripping. That maddening, perilous, oh-so-traditional pastime of Labor Day weekend. Like a dutiful sister-slash-sister-in-law, I was headed to the heart of Kansas to visit my brother and his wife for the holiday.
The first CD I ever bought was Shawn Colvin’s A Few Small Repairs, which I listened faithfully to until I accidentally left it on the TGV to Paris. Track eight was a song called “Wichita Skyline,” and while I had not yet then been to the Great Plains, I was captivated by the wistfulness of the lyrics coupled with her throaty-yet-little-girlish voice.
And then I moved to the Great Plains, and took a road trip to Colorado, and as the flat, flat land unrolled on every side, I crunched myself into the back seat, horrified, expecting tumbleweeds to blow across the road at any second. Yes, what I had been forewarned about was true—driving across Kansas was about as exciting as watching toast being made.
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There are multiple comic book conventions that take place throughout the year, from MoCCA in the East Coast to APE in the West, but any true-blue comic book fan knows that when it comes to the con, you’re talking about unmistakably one: Comic-Con. Whether going by the name SDCC (San Diego Comic Con), CCI (Comic Con International), or just plain Comic-Con, this is the place to be.
Having grown from just being about comic books to featuring kid cartoons, hit TV series, and blockbuster movie previews, the con receives attendees from all over the world and reaches across demographics. And how. According to its website, last year saw a turn-out over 104,000 people crowd into the San Diego Convention Center over the course of four days: artists, actors, directors, exhibitors, and regulars alike. Comics will always be at Comic-Con’s very base and foundation, but really, if all you need is pure entertainment, head on down to the convention center every July for Comic-Con weekend.
Mind you, hotels fill up fast around these parts, and rooms don’t come cheap. When you consider that over 100,000 people attend the event, and that the organizers only hold at most a few hundred area hotel rooms at a discounted rate (with free shuttles to the con), you’re in for a fight if you attempt to look for a room close by a month before the con. Book months ahead of time where possible, and split the cost with friends. Whatever money you end up saving, spend it at the con—hey, you know it’s inevitable.
Don’t be afraid of looking for accommodations outside the main downtown area for a good rate—the trolley will be your good friend. Just make sure the place you choose is at least decent and reputable; safety comes first. You can find out more about the hotel in question through reviews from TripAdvisor and Expedia.
Speaking of transportation, where possible, use the city’s public transit system or walk. San Diego being a popular destination, most locations are usually within good reach of one another. If you happen to stay at a participating hotel, or within walking distance of one, you can get a free shuttle ride to the con just by wearing your Comic-Con badge. Avoid the stress of driving—even if parking fees don’t wind up gnawing insistently at your ankles, the traffic getting to the con center can be horrendous. Saturday is the peak day for such. I remember taking a shuttle regularly to the con last year — on Thursday, it was an easy 15-minute ride. On Saturday, it turned into a 45-minute wait due to the sheer volume of vehicles on the street.
This Thursday through Sunday is when hoardes of fans, artists, costumed folk, and the general public invade San Diego for this year’s ritual event. Whether this is their first time at Comic-Con or their seventh year straight, most have a rough checklist of what they want to see or get. A fresh Flight anthology, perhaps, or sitting in on a Stargate Q&A panel, or catching a sneak preview of an upcoming movie (viva le Stardust!).
If you’re going to Comic-Con, don’t forget this other checklist as well.
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Java Cat 3918 Monona Drive Madison WI 53716 (608) 223-5553 |
A girl worth her salt would brave the elements for a scoop of truly good ice-cream. For a taste of dreamily divine gelato, however, she would travel the globe. Gelato, far denser than regular ice-cream because it contains less air, can have either a dairy base (milk, cream) or a non-dairy base (soy milk, water). For this reason, it can even be enjoyed by the lactose-intolerant without losing any of its flavor. Hey, try finding soy ice-cream that dances on the tastebuds just as heavenly—it is still very much a hit-or-miss mission.
Abby, in covering Rue de Buci, has already let you in one of the best places to enjoy gelato to your heart’s content. One might not guess, however, that delicious gelato can be found not just in Europe, but even right in the American Midwest, of all places. More specifically, at Java Cat.
Photo from Java Cat
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I could tell you about our getting lost on our first day in Seattle—well, not so much lost as misdirected, because all we did was take the wrong bus and wind up on the other side of town—or about how Pike Place Market was a riot of shops and senses, in a way reminding me of the low-cost shopping complexes back in Malaysia. But you know what the real highlight of the whole trip all was? When I held an absolutely fetching white-chested caique on my fingers and blew on her tongue.
Blowing on Katie’s tongue
Photo by Seow Yin |
Seow Yin and I had emerged from Pike Place, and decided to stroll over to a small park nearby for a breather. The bright sun and hot temperature defied April’s alleged “spring” qualities, and drew people out into the open as if by osmosis. Or like a well-sprung trap, depending on your frame of mind. So, scattered about the park were students, drummers, and casual tourists amidst tubby pigeons looking for a snack.
Seow Yin had finished taking obligatory photos when I noticed there were other kinds of birds in the vicinity, and not of the pigeon variety either.
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The first time I went to New York City, I hated it.
It was a bitterly cold January. Jessica and I were staying with her cousins in Philadelphia, and after the hoo-ha of New Year’s had blown over, we decided a day-trip to New York was in order. I actually looked forward to it. Let’s put it this way: when you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, you’re either trying to recover from poor arch support or you’re brimming with anticipation. My arch support was fine, so there you go.
Jessica particularly wanted to see the Statute of Liberty. I really had no inclination to see the Lady, to tell the truth. Okay, she carried a torch. And there was that toga. I still get a kick out of that bit in Ghostbusters II, when the team enlists Lady Liberty’s help to defeat Viggo and his river of slime:
“Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“Wonder what?
“What she’s got underneath that toga.”
Classic Venkman.
But other than that, it did not pique my interest at all. There were streets to walk! Shop windows to goggle at! Don’t make me go to a statue, for crying out loud!
We went to the statue. “For the view,” Jessica insisted cheerfully.
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| The Green Papaya 600 E Pine St Seattle WA 98122 (206) 323-1923 |
Seattle may be known for its rainy climate, but when my old high school pal and I chose that destination for our weekend reunion, we lucked out—it was gratuitious sunshine, the one time that April wasn’t scattered in showers. A good thing, too, considering the numerous times we got lost and ended up heading in the wrong direction, but sometimes a little wandering and backtracking leads to unexpected delights.
Lunch at Green Papaya Photo by Seow Yin |
Such was the case with The Green Papaya.
Seow Yin and I had opted to start going through our “must see” checklist the minute we landed, so after chucking our bags at our bed & breakfast, we were off. It wasn’t until a bus-ride, a dozen camera-clicks, and a long bout of walking later that we realized it was close to 3pm. More than past time for lunch, and boy, were we hungry!
We ducked into The Green Papaya, the first place we spotted that vaguely appeared to be open. We couldn’t really tell if the Vietnamese restaurant was still serving, to tell the truth. Its empty tables and dark interior—shaded from the bright sun by tinted windows and elegant screen dividers—seemed to indicate that it was break-time, that little space in which the staff could take a breather between the rush of lunch and dinner. I half-expected to be told that they were closed, or to face a server who’d keep glancing at her watch to see how long we’d stay.
Instead, we got terrific service, and amazing food. I had the vegetarian spring rice noodles with eggrolls, while Seow Yin ordered the ginger tofu. The generous servings arrived on bright blue plates, each morsel in its rightful place. While presentation doesn’t make poor food any better, it certainly adds to an already excellent meal. I’ve always had a penchant for rice noodles, but not everybody can pull off a crunchy, flavorful eggroll, and The Green Papaya certainly did.
Our energy restored by the filling meal and our bodies refreshed by the chilled fruit juices, we were soon off on our way. It was the merest of chances that we happened to stumble upon The Green Papaya, let alone deciding to go ahead and try it, but I’m certainly glad we did. If you’re looking for tasty Asian cuisine, this Vietnamese restaurant should definitely make your own “must see” checklist.